


Revelations

by wildwordwomyn



Series: rounds_of_kink [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Child Abuse, Community: rounds_of_kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Molestation, POV Character of Color, Rape Recovery, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-10
Updated: 2008-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically "Stay: Redux".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefrogg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrogg/gifts).



> Prompt: "Is it fear or courage that compels you?"  
> Kink: rape recovery  
> Prompter: thefrogg  
> LiveJournal Community: rounds_of_kink
> 
> It was the quote that got me…

“Is it fear or courage that compels you?” Hotch asks when we’re alone in the BAU office.

“What?” The question takes me by surprise since it is 9 pm and everyone else has gone home. A minute ago he’d been in his office finishing up some paperwork, as was I.

“Is it fear or courage that compels you?” he repeats.

Now, the man is strange. A great man to work for and someone you want to have your back when the going gets rough. But sometimes he has a way of looking at me, of looking into me that makes me wish he wasn’t so good at his job. Last year a particularly bad Un Sub took me hostage for a night. In the span of 8 hours he turned my world upside down. I’ve only told my colleagues about the beatings. What I have yet to admit to is…

“Compels me to what?” I counter to stall.

“Stay. Do what you do. Be here.”

“Hotch-”

“I know his M.O., Morgan. Muscular Black men, over-powering with chloroform, moving to an out-of-the-way location, breaking the victim down physically before-”

“Before?” I say, cutting him off. I want to turn my head, hell, turn my back on him just to get away from that look, but I can’t. “Before? After? None of it matters now. We caught him and he can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“But it does matter, doesn’t it? To you…” I shake my head and sigh. “To the BAU. To me.”

I’m surprised at that last part. At how revealing it sounds. Because the truth is we’d started…something…a few months before the incident. His looks had a different edge to them then. His wife had divorced him and moved away with his son. His eyes began to haunt me. His hands. And then one night when we were the last to leave he’d asked me to have dinner with him. He didn’t want to be alone. That was obvious, but he also wanted something else. I assumed it was to talk about his personal life. Instead we talked about favorite books. Cooking for one. How to best get out of a choke-hold. Other things we’d never really talked about before. Hotch opened up to me, and I, despite myself, to him. But that was as far as it got. Talking and a couple stare contests. But now? Now seems too far from then.

“I’m sorry,” I say meaningfully.

“Don’t be.” He’s disappointed. I think maybe I am too. Suddenly he’s in my face, looking again, and when I try to back away an eyebrow quirks. I fight not to flinch, not to show how his maleness scares me in a way it never used to. “Don’t be sorry, Morgan,” he says. “And don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” I reply automatically.

“Then answer the question.”

My fingers begin to curl into fists and I wonder how fast my career would get flushed down the toilet if I hit him. “Both! Okay? Both!”

His hand rises slowly, cautiously, to my shoulder. When it palms my cheek my body goes still. The moment reminds me of being molested as a kid, of the rape. Of freezing and feeling trapped. He caresses my cheekbone softly. I’m not sure what he sees in my eyes but it seems to comfort him because he visibly relaxes. He tells me to stop him if I’m not interested and leans in to kiss me. His lips pressed against mine are gentle and his movements are sure and slow, as if giving me time to reconsider. I don’t, though. I kiss him back just as slowly, stunned by how much better it feels than I’d imagined. Good enough for me to open his mouth and slide my tongue in. The longer we kiss the more turned on I get, the harder I push into him. The deeper I want to feel him.

“Aaron,” I whisper into the kiss. “Will you?...I just…”

Next thing I know I have my boss on the floor underneath me, grinding my hips down, feeling out of control and scared and so damn needy. His kisses turn rough. Teeth, tongues, lips, wetness. He whimpers into my mouth when I send a scouting hand down his pants. The cotton feels hot and itchy against my palm but I rub his erection anyway. I have to. He murmurs something about the cameras only to be ignored. Right now the cameras are last on my mind. I toss off my clothes, throwing them every which way, until I’m blissfully naked, then toss off his clothes.

I compare our bodies as I lick and bite my way along its expanse. Pale and hairy, thin, strong in a different way than mine. I chew on his nipples a while before I move to his navel to stab my tongue in. When I get to what’s most important I take a breath. His dick, unlike the rest of him, is thick and long and an angry red. I take the head into my mouth and suck hard. He gasps my name so I suck harder, then let go and take soft little licks. I wait for him to grab my head, to forcefully shove his way down my throat. I wait and wait because this is what I know about men. But he doesn’t. He pushes me off so he can have a go. I watch his head bob quickly as he takes me in, amazed at the sight of the Aaron Hotchner sucking my dick. And apparently loving it if the noises he makes in the back of his throat are anything to go by. The orgasm builds in my calves first and travels upward until all of me shakes.

“Morgan?” I come back to the living with him in my arms and his hoarse voice quiet in my ear. “Are you crying?”

“What? Hell no!” Only I am. A little. And it’s embarrassing.

“Something in your eyes? Dust perhaps?” I can hear him smiling as he asks.

“Dirt.”

“Me too…Fear and courage...” And then, because there's nothing left to do, we both let loose a laugh.


End file.
